


Shot Through the Heart (and You're to Blame)

by elsiepedee



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: BAMF Connor, Gen, Hank is Hank, Heavy Angst, Onshot, and it's completely justified, connor is angry as fuck, connor just goes off, gavin is the worst, no comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-18 09:55:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15483183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elsiepedee/pseuds/elsiepedee
Summary: A dark red is blooming across the worn grey fabric of Hank’s shirt like roses. It’s spreading extremely fast; fast enough for Connor to know just how bad it is.He doesn't even need to scan him. He has a minute, at best, before the gunshot through his chest forces Hank to give out.





	Shot Through the Heart (and You're to Blame)

**Author's Note:**

> hoooo boy! i'm going to admit that i am extremely proud of this oneshot. beta read by PhoenixReviving, who i honestly owe my life to by this point. shoutout to everyone in the server that i sent clips of this to. your tears only fuel me.

Connor thinks it hit him. He hopes to god, he  _ prays _ it’ll hit him, but he isn’t lucky enough for that.

 

His state of the art audio processors fail him. They’re ringing, everything is ringing, and is he shaking or is the world crumbling to pieces underneath him? He thinks it’s the latter. He doesn’t register the fact that he’s on the ground. He isn’t registering much of anything, just the ringing in his ears, the crisp edges of his vision, and Hank on the ground in front of him.

 

A dark red is blooming across the worn grey fabric of Hank’s shirt like roses. It’s spreading extremely fast; fast enough for Connor to know just how bad it is.

 

He doesn't even need to scan him. He has a minute, at best, before the gunshot through his chest forces Hank to give out.

 

“No, no, no, Hank,” Connor breathes, voice as ragged as sandpaper. He brings Hank up to his chest, clutching him close and extremely tight, afraid to let go. Hank takes in a sharp breath, gripping at his wound, but he seems more shocked than desperate.

 

“Surprised this didn’t happen ages ago. Between my dumb ass and the force-” He coughed out. His face was as white as a ghost, already devoid of color. Connor had never felt more desperate in his life. He had already called an ambulance, but he wasn’t about to admit to himself that there was nothing he could do, even if it was starting to look like that was the case.

 

“No. We’re going to get help. You’re going to be ok,” he lied through clattering teeth. 

 

If Hank had the strength to do so, he’d be bickering with Connor, even at such a time. Instead, silence swallowed the two, and Connor felt hot white tears make their mark on his blotchy red face.

 

“I think I’m going to miss you. Maybe.” Hank whispered, the ghost of a smile outlining his lips.

 

“Don’t say that, Hank!” Connor forced out, clutching him even closer. “Don’t say goodbye. You’re not leaving yet.”

 

“Connor…” He rasped, the hold on his wound getting lighter and lighter as the world faded from view. “Shut up.”

 

Hank’s eyes glossed over, as if he was looking at something in the distance just out of reach. His pale face matched the whites of his eyes, all blood from his face gone, the only remnant of life in him slowly fading out of reach.

 

He let out his last shallow breath. And just like that, Hank was gone.

 

_ No. _

 

All of Connor’s body, from the motor functions in his feet to every single strand of dark hair on his head, came together to let out a resounding  _ no _ to the world.

 

He felt like he was being torn apart limb by limb. He felt like there were wood chips in his respiration system, poking against him and filling up his chest with sharp pain that obstructed the breathing he didn’t even need to do.

 

All he could smell and taste was the metal tang of blood. His vision was black, his face was hot and wet. His mind was screaming at him, but at the same time he couldn’t make a coherent thought to save his life.

 

Everything hurt. It was all too much. If there was any point in his life Connor wished he could dream, it would be right now.

 

Hank’s unkempt hair pressed into Connor’s chin, feeling soft and soothing against him. He held Hank’s body close, rocking back and forth like a child. He didn’t know what to do from here. But now he had nothing left to lose, and he was going to make sure the person behind the gun knew it.

 

He was going to make sure that he knew it without a single doubt. He was going to go out swinging. To hell with all of the peace and the rationality his programming was screaming at him to use. He didn’t care about anything at all. He only felt fire. Vengeance. Retribution.

 

Hot red flooded his system as he looked up from where he sat. His vision was blurry, and there were many faces to look at, but a figure stood out from it all.

 

Gavin was shaking like a leaf. His gun clattered onto the floor.

 

Connor let down Hank’s limp figure gently as he slowly stood. He was able to hear his own pulse beat against his audio processor from anger. Eyes sharp as daggers and fists balled as hard as rocks, he slowly took a few steps forward towards the crowd of humans and androids.

 

“I didn’t mean to. It wasn’t my fault! It was your-”

 

Gavin was rudely interrupted by the cold barrel of a gun perched right on his forehead.

 

His eyes widened. Connor nuzzled the gun in deeper at his reactions, partly taking joy in them. His finger twitched, senses heightened, mind racing about the fact that he could end Gavin right here, right now. Multiple reasons and memories of why he should pull the trigger shoved themselves to the front of his mind. None of them compared to the sheer, white, burning anger and loss that Gavin had just thrust him into.

 

The two of them were breathing erratically. Gavin was afraid to move, but Connor showed no sign of backing down. In fact, his face was a textbook definition of determination.

 

They stood there like that for a few moments. Nobody in the crowd behind them dared to make a move, or dared to say a word. They only surrounded the two like vultures. Connor barely registered their presence.

 

Connor cut away at Gavin’s soul through his piercing eyes, like a scalpel to the flesh. Gavin felt the pressure on his forehead leave, and he felt like he could breathe again.

 

The gun clattered to the floor, Connor throwing it to his left a little bit harshly.

 

“This isn’t the way,” He whispered to Gavin, his voice like a thousand knives against his skin.

 

_ “This isn't the way!” _ He shouted, frightening Gavin enough to back into the crowd.

 

“Look at yourselves! Is this really what you want? All of you are to blame for this! A perfectly good and innocent man is dead because of all of you!”

 

“You all came here to have a full model scale of war. Bone against metal, android against human. But when you pull that trigger of yours, you don’t know who’s on the other end of your bullet! Past the skin, past the silicon, past everything else! We have lives. We all have friends. Families, even!”

 

Connor was well aware of the fact that he was shaking in anger.

 

“And all of you right here, right now. Your anger and ignorance…  _ Killed _ mine.” He spat, anger, loss, and everything in between making itself present in that short line. 

 

“So, please! Find a single shred of decency and humanity in yourselves. Is killing a few humans or a few androids really going to do anything for you, besides keep you awake at night wondering whose lives you’ve shattered in the process?!”

 

He looked out into the sea of humans and androids, staring him down as if he was on display at a museum. He saw remorse, disappointment, anger, a wide array of emotions in front of him. He locked eyes with Gavin, reading his shaking expression of regret, shame, worry and horror.

 

“Please,” He begged them all.

 

Connor heard a  _ thud _ to the right of him as an android he had never seen before dropped a bat he had been holding. At the sight of this, Connor let out a breath he hadn't even known he was holding in.

 

He locked eyes with the stranger, nodding.  _ “Thank you,” _ He whispered, the tension in his body slightly dropping.

 

Slowly after, he heard the sound of a gun hitting the ground. A human not too far off had dropped it in solidarity, sad eyes looking towards Connor as he did so.

 

The steady rhythm of humans and androids alike dropping their weapons was like music to Connor’s ears. He felt boulders being lifted off of his shoulders, the sickening buzz of not knowing what would happen next leaving the air bit by bit.

 

He wasn’t happy, in fact he was as far from happy as he had ever been in his life. But the knowledge that no more blood was going to be shed was one hell of a comfort. The storm had passed, the air had cleared, and the dew on the grass had seeped into the ground.

 

The shrill noise of an ambulance approaching dragged Connor from his thoughtful state. Angry red lighting danced on his back, as he turned his face to look towards the paramedics buzzing their way past. Connor’s heart hitched at the sight.

 

He heard the wheels of a gurney squeaking as Hank was lifted onto the medical bed. The crowd of people started to gather around, viewing the scene. One of the paramedics made sure nobody got too close. Despite Connor’s pleading and pained yells, no matter how much he explained that Hank was his  _ family _ , they weren’t keen on listening in. Police sirens started to add to the cacophony, but Connor barely paid it any mind.

 

Connor watched from the sidelines as a white sheet was lifted into the air, floating freely and lightly onto Hank’s deceased body.


End file.
